


Not-So Routine Traffic Stop

by mahbbys



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Beginnings, Ficlet, First Meetings, Human Castiel, M/M, Meet-Cute, Police Officer Dean, Police Uniforms, Prompt Fic, Rating May Change, Short, Short & Sweet, Tags May Change, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, these two fall in love in every universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2014-07-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 05:17:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1928055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahbbys/pseuds/mahbbys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas didn't expect to get pulled over. He expected what came next even less.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not-So Routine Traffic Stop

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wannaliveindeansdimples](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannaliveindeansdimples/gifts).



> ((Based on the prompt of a ficlet where Dean is a cop and he pulls Cas over.))
> 
> This is open-ended right now and is meant to be a short stand-alone ficlet, but it might possibly (ok, probably will) become the first part of a series/verse/longer story...

Cas' stomach sank the instant he saw the blue flashing lights in his rearview, before the siren had even begun. Maybe they weren’t for him. Maybe the cop would pass him on his way to something more important.

His eyes flicked down to the speedometer automatically before he began to slow down and pull over to the edge of the road. He was going the speed limit - a mile under, in fact. The flashing lights pulled up behind him.Had he missed a sign? He'd been thinking about work, and not paying as much attention as he should have. He didn't normally take this route, so maybe he HAD missed something? Damn it. Cas sighed and frowned as he killed the engine and reached over for his paperwork in the glovebox.

It was taking what felt like an eternity for the cop to get out of the patrol car and Cas' nerves frayed a little more with each passing second. He'd rolled down his window and now sat waiting, watching his side mirror for signs of life within the car behind him. As day turned to dusk, the breeze that blew in through Cas' open window relaxed him some, but not enough. He was usually so careful when driving and he felt a wave of shame roll over him that he knew was an overreaction.

Eventually, the policeman got out and Cas watched as he sauntered slowly towards him. His gait wasn't quite the same as most cops, probably due to his long bowlegs, but Cas could tell he walked with the same air of confidence and strong posture. Cas took a deep breath as the officer approached closely enough that epaulets, a badge, and a broad chest were all Cas could see reflected in the mirror. Then suddenly the man was within Cas' space, sweeping his eyes through the car, his hand by his hip.

"License and registration," he said, not even bothering to give Cas more than a cursory glance before looking up towards the road, making sure no cars would be coming close to where he was standing. Cas handed him all the necessary items, including his proof of insurance, immediately.

Cas licked his lips as he tried to stare at his steering wheel instead of at the officer next to him. There had been a flash of intense green eyes, like something from a magazine spread, when he'd glanced at Cas and that was enough for Cas' mouth to go even drier. Despite his efforts at looking ahead, Cas found himself watching from the corner of his eye as the man's forearms flexed while he rifled through the paperwork.

"Sir, do you know why I pulled you over?" came the rough, no-nonsense voice again.

"I honestly don't, officer. I'm sorry," came Cas' own deep-voiced reply.

The guy ducked down a little - he had to be over 6 feet tall - to get a better view and looked at Cas again. His stern face seemed to soften for a moment and his eyes went wide for such a split second that Cas wondered if he imagined it. "Uh," the officer faltered and cleared his throat. He glanced at Cas' license again as he said, "Well, Mr. Novak, your right brake light is out and your left one is dim at best. You aware of that?"

Cas sighed as his shoulders slumped. He rubbed his forehead tiredly, his eyes closed. "No, sir, I wasn't." He's just gotten expensive repairs done to his transmission, he didn't need wiring and electric issues now, too. 

Cas was frowning slightly when he opened his eyes, but it was replaced with a quirk of his eyebrows as he saw just how the officer was looking at him. The gaze sent a jolt of something electric through Cas and caused his breath to speed up.

"Ok, well, I'll need to run your info. I'll be right back." The officer turned, his eyes flicking over Cas once more before he did so.

Cas swallowed and dropped his head against the headrest of the seat. He flicked his own eyes over to watch the officer walk back towards his car. Thoughts of a possible ticket were momentarily crowded out by thoughts of just how broad the cop's shoulders were and just how well his uniform's pants fit him in the back. Then Cas' brain stopped short-circuiting and his stomach pooled with dread again. He didn't even know what to do with a ticket; he'd never gotten one before.

Another eternity stretched on as Cas watched with disinterest the few cars that passed. The light faded a little more, becoming bluer and bluer as the sky darkened and the squad car lights continued on brightly. Finally, he heard a car door shut and Cas turned his attention back to the mirror. The cop's gait seemed a tiny bit less authoritative and on alert now, and Cas' brow pinched a little at the sight.

"All right, well, Mr. Novak, everything checks out. You've got a pretty damn clear record, in fact." The officer handed Cas back his paperwork and license and Cas nodded.

"I try," Cas replied, not sure what else to say. Was he getting a ticket?

"Listen, I'm not gonna give you a ticket tonight." Relief flooded through Cas. "But you need to get that brake light fixed, pronto, ya hear me?" The officer leaned one of his strong forearms onto the car door.

"Yes, sir. Thank you. Sir." Cas nodded appreciatively.

The officer studied him for a second, and Cas could feel himself wither and swoon under the green-eyed gaze. "I see ya driving through here without it again, I won't hesitate to call you out on it." The cop cracked a small smile then and Cas' stomach did a new kind of flip-flop. "Wouldn't wanna ruin that record of yours, would we?"

Cas just shook his head and swallowed.

The officer licked his bottom lip and straightened up. "I don't usually do this, but I got a buddy who works on cars. Name's Bobby Singer, and he'll take care of it for ya for free, IF you go tomorrow and IF you tell him Officer Winchester sent you. Sound good?"

Cas stared wide-eyed for a moment and then nodded quickly as he found his voice. "Um, yes, that sounds very good. Thank you. I um, I appreciate it."

"Yeah. Yeah, no problem." The cop - Officer Winchester - held a business card out to Cas, held between his index and middle finger. As Cas took it, the other man's lips tightened together and he rubbed at the back of his neck with his palm. He cleared his throat. "You um...you have a good night Mr. Novak." The guy tapped at Cas' window sill twice with his knuckles and turned, as if to leave. 

Then he said, "You, uh, you'll find some additional info on the back of that card. You don't need to use it to get the free light. Just...it's there should you want it." And like that, Officer Winchester was walking away, back to the flashing blue of his squad car, with a much quicker step.

Cas blinked a couple of times and looked down to the card, trying to adjust his eyes to read the text. As he read the fine print that said "Singer's Auto" with a number and address, the lights of the squad car flashed past him, then turned off as the car made its way into the quickly darkening evening. Cas glanced up at it before flipping the card over.

There was a scrawled, ballpoint message written below a phone number. It said:

_ Dean Winchester _  
_ Call me? _

**Author's Note:**

> As I said, I will possibly/probably do more with this. It was supposed to just be a ficlet, but it's been whispering at me ever since I finished it. I hope you liked it, either way! Thank you for reading.


End file.
